Page 21 of Deadly Hope
“Hey Maya,” Axel called out, dropping into view behind Ronan’s shoulder.
“Back me up here, Axe,” Maya laughed. “He needs to remember there’s life outside that command center.”
“Copy that, Detective.”
“Former detective,” Maya and Ronan corrected in unison, sharing a look that made Axel’s chest tight with happiness for his friend.
“I’ve tried to kick him out for hours,” Axel said.
“Traitor,” Ronan muttered, but his eyes never left Maya’s face.
Watching them, Axel couldn’t help thinking what a dream come true Maya had been for Ronan. From that first mission when they’d extracted her from a corrupt NCIS operation, something had clicked between the former LAPD detective and his typically reserved teammate. Now, barely two months later, Ronan had a brightness about him that Axel had never seen during their SEAL days.
“Get some rest,” Maya said softly, signing off.
His friend stared at the blank screen, features frozen in a goofy expression. “Love you too.”
Axel still couldn’t get used to the fact that he and his former SEAL team had been recruited by a top-of-the-line outfit like Knight Tactical. But watching Ronan—seeing the man’s bright, happy future unfolding—made it feel even more like a dream come true.
“So,” Axel started, aiming for casual, “remember how you always say I need to work on my impulse control?”
Ronan turned to face him. “What did you do?”
“Technically, nothing binding.” Axel perched on the edge of the desk, earning a look that would have intimidated anyone who hadn’t seen Ronan stress-eat an entire package of Oreos during their first stakeout together. “I just maybe suggested. No. I strongly implied we’d handle Olivia’s security.”
“You did what?” Ronan’s voice was carefully neutral.
From his workstation across the room, Kenji let out a low whistle. “And here I thought I was the one making poor life choices.”
“You are,” Griffin murmured without looking up from his weapons maintenance. “He’s just giving you competition.”
“Hey!” Kenji protested. “That thing in Marseilles wasn’t my fault. Mostly.”
“Gentlemen,” Deke’s deep voice rumbled from where he sat cleaning his rifle with methodical precision. “Perhaps we should let them discuss this professionally.”
“Thank you, Deke,” Ronan said.
“Besides,” Deke continued with the faintest hint of a smile, “we can mock Axel thoroughly later.”
“Et tu, Pastor?” Axel clutched his chest dramatically, but sobered under Ronan’s steady gaze. “Look, you saw Olivia’s office. The guy just walked?—”
“Round the clock surveillance and an investigation? We don’t have the manpower for this.” Ronan rubbed his temples. “The main team is on that Belgrade situation. They’ll be tied up for weeks.”
Zara’s fingers stilled on her keyboard, though she didn’t look up from her screens. The dark circles under her eyes suggested she’d been hunting their intruder’s digital trail all night.
“I hear you,” Axel said. But he didn’t agree. “How about you guys stick with investigating the perp. I’ll handle the protection detail myself.”
“No chance.” Ronan’s expression softened slightly. “You know that’s not how we operate. We’re family. Everyone’ll take their assigned shift. I didn’t say we wouldn’t do it. Just know Christian and the rest of the old guard will give us grief for it.”
Family. He remembered the moment it had hit him—three days into Maya’s case, when he’d woken up thrashing in the break room after another nightmare. Instead of the awkward silence he’d come to expect, he’d found Deke sitting quietly nearby with a cup of coffee, Ronan working in the corner like nothing had happened, and Kenji’s horrible playlist filling the silence.
No questions, no judgment. Just quiet acceptance.
Now, watching his team work in their upgraded command center, that same acceptance wrapped around him like armor. The familiar tap of keyboards, the low hum of equipment, even the ancient coffee maker gurgling in the corner—it all meant safety. Home.
Which was exactly why he had to make them understand about Olivia.
“Speaking of family obligations ...” Axel cleared his throat, studying the tension in Ronan’s shoulders. His friend hadn’t moved from the surveillance feeds in hours. “We need to find her a secure location. For client sessions.”
